19/10/09
Location: Mala Strana, Praha
Topic: Prague
So far things have been somewhat chronological. What better place than Prague to lose oneself in the myriad of twisting cobblestoned streets. And so my chronology is also lost. Prague has been a daze - a period where stuff has happened, but in no logical plan or headspace. It’s evolved - an organic Prague experience.
It’s always strange to visit a place more than once - it becomes familiar and takes on a different tone. It’s only when you realise you don’t need a map that you feel less like a tourist. It’s an intrinsic thing - knowing your way around - there’s a sense of purpose and ownership in your steps. The city accepts you, allowing you to no longer explore the streets - but to begin experiencing them.
So this is Prague. My Prague - a refuge, one to heal in. I slept for two days, leaving the apartment in central Mala Strana only for grocery supplies. Mental reminder - carrying 2 weeks of supplies home isn’t something you should do with only plastic bags. It took me over an hour to make the walk that usually takes 15 minutes. But boy did i cook up a feast!
I then visited my grandma - again, odd to just jump on a tram, a connecting train and know how to get around the suburbs of Prague. Not that things haven’t changed - oh lord have they changed. New skyscrapers adorn the skyline a suburb before my grandmas, and dad suggests to get off at the station there - it’s all new shopping centres and modern living. Yet I’m not sure i want to see it. It’s consumer paradise, the kind that was inevitable, really, to explode within the post-communist countries. It’s clean, bright and safe, and although I need a beanie, gloves and scarf, i can’t bring myself to spend the money here. It seems overpriced - overpriced! - compared to the shitty imported stuff i’m used to buying at Chinese market stalls in Australia. I think i’m the one with the laughable view of modern shopping.
I walk past the National Theatre, but this could be any street on the outskirts of the Prague most people know. The street is run-down with cracks in the tiles. Half ripped stickers cover parts of strange, smooth walls of mini outdoor arcades which seem to only be found in central and east european countries. The ground is uneven, shops feature old leather jackets for sale, and the neglected buildings hide a stunning beauty - if only each statue had an hour of elbow grease applied to it. That was then - this is now. Cafes, wifi, restaurants, shopping malls, polished floors - the whole street has transformed into as familiar a shopping experience as walking down Brunswick St, in Melbourne. Money has poured in here - assisted no doubt by the EU, and created something inevitable. I feel shocked - my rough-at-the-edges Prague is changing, dramatically.
Even the Reduta Jazz Club - an icon of Prague’s music scene for many decades seems dwarfed by what’s around it - only a small sign giving a nod in the direction of the Reduta Bad Boys of yore.
However, Czechs still enjoy driving trucks - the sheer amount of brands in your average supermarket is staggering. And if it doesn’t sell and has to get driven back to the warehouse - fantastic! A society of delivery drivers!
Yet this is on the surface, only. A closer peek reveals people scavenging for discarded Starbucks containers in the trash, and cigarette stubs being picked up and saved for later - this is in the Old Town Square - one of the prettiest and busiest of tourist haunts. Yet as the tourist season nears its end, Prague will no doubt take on a different tone.
Walking along Nerudova, up to Prague Castle, the story is somewhat familiar. A Saturday night, and restaurants lined up next to each other are empty - walking around with my tripod I feel slightly unsafe as 3 burley Czechs in leather jackets walk past me, with only echoes and golden light around us. They’re talking about Photoshop of all things - passionately!
It’s only after being here for 4 days do i finally walk around the Old Town and up to the Castle - and fall in love with Prague. It’s a cliche, but to those who haven’t been here, no pictures or amount of words can prepare you for what must be one of the most romantic cities in the world. The best way to experience Prague is to empty your pockets of everything but a house key and 100 Crowns - enough for a small meal or a coffee and pastry - and just wander the streets aimlessly. Look at the people, the cobblestones, the shops selling knick-knacks, the leaves, the puddles, the spires, the architecture, the churches, the sky, the street signs, the cars, the person walking the dog, the trees, the trams, the hills and the way the footpath thins out and disappears entirely down the street. Then, as the street-lamps turn on and the city bathes itself in a yellow glow, head out at night and do it all again.
I set myself a task. To photograph some of Prague’s amazing features - from specific buildings to regions such as Petrin, around blue-hour every night. It takes me two visits to get the Loreta right - my favourite building in all of Prague. Her feminine glory is exquisite, and being a 5 minute walk off the beaten track means you get it largely to yourself at sundown. She’s reserved, not over the top, and difficult to get a proper photo of due to her proximity to the incredibly masculine buildings around her. But it’s worth it - even if i did set up my tripod in dog poop.
It feels like time goes slower in Prague. Not due to some abstract notion, but because travel time is severely reduced in a small city. When there’s so much daily life to see, you feel like you’re experiencing something as soon as you step out the door. The overwhelming visual appeal of a short stroll up to and around the castle can take merely an hour or two off your watch - yet feels as rewarding as a half day excursion.
The sun dances across rooftops, illuminating unimaginable varieties of subtle ochres. I sit at Cafe Slavia, a popular haunt of famous Czech writers of decades gone, and watch red and yellow trams trundle along iron tracks, set amongst cobblestones, hundreds of years old. The Vltava River shimmers reflections of families, couples and canines which wander freely in the parklands of Kampa. People cross Charles Bridge, stopping every 10metres for what surely must be a better photo opportunity than the last - creating havoc as people squish around each other.
I wander the streets - incessantly. It rains and I think to head back to the apartment, but I can’t. It’s a new light to see Prague in. Every time of day looks different. The tall city streets are dark and cold, yet turning a corner reveals long golden swathes of sunlight, blinding all those who enter the Old Town Square. Pigeons swarm, teenagers hang out in groups of 20 or more. A myriad of languages is caught in the wind as it mixes with the freshness, the vitality and excitement shared by people experiencing the same amazing scenery. A German girl wanders the square with a piece of cardboard proclaiming “Free Hug” - I get greedy and ask for two.
One morning i’m up early. Glancing through the streets around Hradcany, the sunlight pokes marginally into the lanes, brightening just the tips of the houses in a staggering display of colour. It’s beautiful in that way that stops you in your tracks.
I visit my grandma every two days - we don’t talk much, but just being there is enough to connect with her, and I feel she appreciates it. I find it sobering - both a realisation my family is larger than the nucleus, but also the frailty of life. Although, she’s as tough as a steel ship, my Babicka - and bounces around the apartment making me knehlicky merunkovy - apricot dumplings - my favourite meal in the world, before settling down for her truly tacky romantic soapy, Sturm Der Liebe - Storm of Love.
It’s nearing Blue Hour, so i head out to the Municipal House, and stealthily set my tripod up at near ground level. People ask if there’s someone famous around - as i must be paparazzi. Two hefty men clad in leather jackets ask me in polite Czech where the nearby shopping strip is. It’s an odd question, and one in retrospect may have been to suss out my vulnerability as a tourist. Either way, my answer - or confidence - convinces them, and I continue shooting unhindered. Yet i’m still very careful with my gear - I double back a few times whenever my camera enters my bag again - i assume everyone around me knows it’s value, and with my camera out, i stop often, looking for any familiar faces around me. It’s paranoia, but necessary - tourists here are often targeted, and it only takes one asshole to start a truly painful chain of events in dealing with insurance companies and what not…
I need a break from the stone, so i head up Petrin - a hill right next to the apartment where the royal family used to have vineyards. I see a squirrel. It’s wonderful being around all the greenery - and the views of Prague itself are incredible. It looks hilarious - all these little homes squished next to each other in the bend of the river. It’s also striking how small it all is - I point at the National Museum and know it’s only a 20 minute walk away.
I sit in the Cafe Savoy - it was always upmarket, and it’s raced ahead even more, with most tables booked for reservations. My coffee is the best i’ve tasted so far - and i’m surely paying for the dark wooden, golden light ambience too. My laptop runs out of battery as I process more photos - this time of romantic, shallow depth of field photos of Prague just after the rain. Yet my quest still continues for a coffee i’d happily drink twice. I hate to bring it back to Melbourne - but we have seriously incredible coffee. If the St Ali crowd opened up a place here…
I keep rushing out around 5:30pm to catch sights at Blue Hour, but i’m only marginally successful - it takes two visits to get the National Theatre, and my Troja Zamek photo felt incomplete without a tripod, and being booted out of there 5 minutes before the perfect exposure. But i’m thankful for what I can get.
I’m shocked to discover how high the 2002 flood waters were at the Zoo - and i think of all the poor animals which perished. Yet it’s bounced back - a full day is exhausting, and the animals seem to have a large amount of space and are happy. My favourite thing to see are the humans though - watching people as they watch the monkeys. Always hilarious. I watch a huge eagle at feeding time, ripping apart a fish only a meter away from me, and as i’m covered in scales and the stench of innards, i head off to see something cuter. The Africa exhibit has some of the oddest night-time creatures - fluffy rodenty things, some with huge ears, prancing around like maniacs. I walk past parrots who show a keen interest in me - or more likely my banana. A polar bear - or a lolarbear, grins with the largest smile i’ve ever seen. Cheetahs survey the scene from their mountaintop retreat - and i realise how scenic a setting the zoo is in, with Prague castle in clear view for many of the animals.
It takes me a week to settle properly and get a real feel for life in the city again. My aunty arrives and I cart excessive amounts of German cheeses back to the apartment. I head up to look out over the old town square at blue hour, and end up taking photos of the elevator shaft - something out of some sci-fi movie. I begin to take shortcuts through backstreets and before i realise it, my return date to London creeps up on me - not only have I not sorted a single photo from Asia, but i’ve taken almost 600 photos of Prague.
And 100 more in Kutna Hora, a small town about an hour out of Prague, built on silver and coin minting, but famous for something more sinister. Home to a kostnice - an ossuary - something you don’t really see too often. It’s basically a building where skeletal remains are stored, yet in this instance, they’re somewhat remarkably decorative in their presentation. Piles upon piles of bones are stacked neatly in mounds, chandeliers, ornaments and even a family crest are all recreated using human bones. Conflicting emotions swim around my head - it’s sickening and creepy, but fascinating and intricately creative, and definitely something unique. But the unexpected hero of Kutna Hora is the city itself. I visited on a quiet Sunday - with closed shops, few tourists, no locals and a slight breeze. The streets were largely empty save for a few children. Wandering from church to church, the gothic St Barbara is the clear highlight, and lunch overlooking the autumn leaves mingled with spires can’t be beaten.
But it’s time to head back - I catch the train and spend my last day in Prague with my Grandma and Aunty, and as I wander back through town, end up making 3 “last walks” through my favourite area. Prague is like that - romantic, rambling, repeating.
You may walk down the same street and see something new. Or maybe you don’t - it doesn’t matter. It’s Prague, a city which is living and breathing it’s own life, it’s own direction, on its own terms. Change is happening here, it’s exciting, and only as i begin to leave, do I realise it’s happening side by side to the culture. It’s not overshadowing it - change is serving Prague and Prague is serving change. The mindset is still there, but it’s also encouraging new ideas. I can’t help but wonder if something as dramatic as finally switching over to the euro will be the final shove in Prague’s new direction.
more photos of Zoo Creatures & Kutna Hora to come in the next posts…
